


My Girlfriend Teresa Lisbon

by lisboun



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, But also, F/M, Fluff, established Jane/Lisbon, hehe, multi-chapter, post-Blue Bird
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25481599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisboun/pseuds/lisboun
Summary: [As it turned out, getting Lisbon to open up was still like peeling an onion made out of concrete.]A look into the lives of Jane and Lisbon after they finally get together. Even after so many years of being friends, there's still a lot to navigate in their new relationship. Here's how they handle the different hurdles and transitions in their new life as partners outside of work. Starting off with Chapter I: Nicknames.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I tried so hard to be as least vague as possible with my summary but I am still struggling haha. I'm planning for this to be a multi-chapter story with each chapter focused on a different subject pertaining to Jane and Lisbon's new relationship. This is going to be set post-Blue Bird, but I'm still working my way through re-watching the show and I'm only on season 4. I'll try to be as canon as possible but I've been trying to avoid spoilers (even though they're not really spoilers anymore) and I don't remember everything from the later seasons. Forgive me for any glaring continuity errors—I'll definitely go back and make edits as needed once I get through my entire re-watch! 
> 
> This first chapter is pretty mild—no warnings or anything apply other than for strong language and substance use (alcohol, socially). I want to write a chapter about their sex life (hahaha) so that will probably be a higher rating but I will update the tags/notes accordingly.

**  
I. NICKNAMES**

Endearing nicknames had always been a part of Jane's daily vocabulary. They stemmed from his days as a carnie, where they were crucial in sweetening up the marks (or audience, as a gentler way to put it). It was just in his nature to address people with "my dear," "darling," "angel," "sweetheart," "buttercup..." the list went on. The sweeter the better, the more effective at complementing his charm (and often facilitating his manipulation). It worked on people of all genders and of all ages. Who could resist a golden, handsome man's such flattering words?

One would never expect the answer to be his own girlfriend.

After over a decade of working with him, Lisbon had become quite desensitized to Jane's superficial terms of endearment. The "dear," the "doll," and the "princess" had all lost meaning to her many years ago. She knew they were used on everyone and carried no weight, other than to further Jane's ulterior motives. They stopped bothering her very early on, as she also caught on that the terms were instilled in his nature. Sure they were shallow, but so was the gentlemanly persona that was required of him to survive in show business and then later to become such a successful (albeit chaotic and troublesome) police consultant. His usual endearments didn't bother her. They just had no effect on her.

That was the case with his _usual_ endearments anyway. She was so accustomed to them that her ears no longer registered them as anything significant. It was when he started using words like "baby," and "my love," and "my heart," that stirred something in her. Her mind picked up on these immediately as names he didn't normally use, which made sense since they were names reserved exclusively for significant others. One of which he had now—her.

Jane hadn't needed to consciously decide to start using them. Like the saccharine, high-yield names he bestowed upon the general population, they came up organically in conversation. The affection he felt for Lisbon produced a need to be expressed when he spoke to her. The first time he found himself calling her "my love," his mind took note of the fact that he hadn't called anyone that since his late wife. It didn't bring any guilt with it—he took comfort in the fact that he had someone who he genuinely loved in the present day. And gratitude in that this person loved him back.

Lisbon, on the other hand, did feel quite uncomfortable. The names were jarring to her, almost nonsensical. She didn't know what to make of these feelings at first—why was she surprised at her partner saying things that normal partners said?

Jane, of course, picked up on her hesitation. Not only did she not reciprocate the endearments, but she seemed visibly taken aback when he used them. He could tell she was trying to hide her discomfort, but was unsuccessful at repressing it entirely. Initially he attributed her awkwardness to simply the newness of the relationship and her not being yet adjusted to receiving such direct affection from him. Lisbon was a private person, but she wasn't a prude—Jane was sure she had used similar pet names, and likely more crude ones, with her past lovers. He surmised her evasion of them with him was related to how long they had been just good friends. He decided to give it some more time for Lisbon to come around.

One morning, after eight weeks had passed and she was still flinching (ever so slightly) at him greeting her with a 'Good morning, love' even after spending a night in the same bed as her, Jane figured it was time to confront the matter.

"Lisbon," he said, turning onto his side and propping his head up on an elbow to look down at her in bed. He kept his face neutral, free of any frowns or smiles that could be interpreted as teasing. "Is something the matter?"

She blinked at him slowly, her eyes still heavy with sleep and her head resistant to leaving the pillows. "Hmm?" It was almost a groan.

"Whenever I use a nickname for you, you react negatively towards it."

Lisbon scrunched her face and rubbed her eyes. Jane knew this wasn't exactly her topic of choice to discuss on a Saturday morning, even after a relatively light week. "What - what do you mean?" She was putting little effort into feigning ignorance because she knew it would be futile anyway.

"Like just now, when I said, 'Good morning, love.' You flinched."

"No I didn't." Again, with little effort into sounding incredulous.

"Come on, there's no use denying it to me. I saw it."

"Yeah, 'cause you know everything." Her eyes opened wider, awoken by irritation that was even more apparent in her voice.

Jane, who had been trying to be better about not pushing her when it was clear she didn't want to be pushed, dropped the matter then. He nodded quietly and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed to make breakfast.

He didn't hold her abrasiveness against her—he knew he had hurt her a lot over the years and that it was going to take more than just a few months of being together to earn her trust again. Sometimes he feared it would never be possible for her to fully trust him given their history... but that was a worry for another time.

Although he was ready to let the matter rest for now in favor of getting on with their day, it still seemed to hang in Lisbon's mind as she made her way into the kitchen after taking a shower. She thanked him for the breakfast he put in front of her and made light conversation about the last week as the two of them ate. Despite this, Jane could tell her thoughts were preoccupied, and she was likely debating with herself whether or not to bring up the issue again.

It was her morning coffee that gave her the clarity to make the decision. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said as they were tag-teaming the dishes—him washing, her drying.

"About what?" Jane was the one who tried feigning ignorance this time.

"You know." She didn't look him in the eye, instead concentrating her gaze on the already-dry dish that she was somehow trying to dry more. "I was still pretty sleepy and I was caught off-guard. I'm sorry for shooting down your question like that."

"Oh, it's alright," he said, taking care to bite back the "dear" that was on its way to punctuate his sentence. She would have thought he was trying to get a rise out of her if he had included it. "It _is_ pretty early." The microwave's clock beside them read 9:42am, but this was still quite early for Lisbon, who was not a morning person, especially on weekends.

She continued unprompted. "It's just still kinda... weird, y'know?"

"Hm, weird how?" It was taking them an unusually long time to wash just one meal's worth of dishware.

She gestured between them with her free hand. "You know... this. Us."

"Oh, I see. That we're together."

"Yeah. I guess my mind still hasn't totally wrapped around it yet."

"I understand."

"It's not like I don't like it," she said, pausing before she continued. "You know... you calling me things. I'm just not... used to it."

Jane nodded. "Yes, that makes sense."

"Mm-hm."

"Are you okay with me continuing to do it?" Jane asking for her permission on anything was also still quite new. She definitely appreciated his efforts to get her consent, and especially that this now extended to when they were working cases.

"Yeah."

"Okay." He could sense there was more that she wasn't telling him, but again decided not to push her further for the time being. "So, what do you wanna do this weekend?"

She thought for a moment. "The weather is going to be pretty nice. Wanna go hiking?"

Jane didn't like hiking much, but he liked hiking with Lisbon. He smiled agreeably. "Let's do it."  
  


* * *

  
A few weeks passed before the matter of nicknames came up again. With Lisbon's permission, Jane had continued to use them, and she had continued to refrain from them. Pet names aside, he also started calling her more by her first name. She used his at times, but even after almost half a year together she still felt more comfortable with just "Jane." After all, that's who he had been to her for more than ten years.

They had just closed a high-profile case in Atlantic City and gone out to celebrate. It was nearing midnight, and the rest of the team had retired to their hotel rooms in preparation for their flight home the next morning. Lisbon had somehow allowed herself to let go of a good night's sleep in favor of hanging out with Jane at the tacky-but-yet-still-fancy Europe-themed casino lounge. It had been a long few weeks in New Jersey chasing down the ringmaster of a coastal human trafficking operation, and they had both been eager for a release. Jane usually didn't drink much, but the menu of cocktails named after various European capitals was intriguing, and he had been determined to survey as many of them as they could handle. He particularly liked "the Lisbon," a drink composed of (likely knock-off) Portuguese Beirão, pear syrup, lime, and a variety of spices that he became too inebriated to distinguish. Lisbon thought the "the Dublin" drink was better, but Jane insisted on "the Lisbon" because "it reminds me of someone I know."

Jane previously avoided getting too drunk because he needed his mind clear at all times on the lookout for Red John, and Lisbon hadn't thought it was professional to get wasted as the head of her unit. Now that those conditions were out of the way, the two of them were free to drink through as much of fake Europe as they pleased. They had been sitting in the same secluded lounge booth for a few hours now and were both quite drunk—definitely the most intoxicated they had ever been together since they had become a couple, and possibly the most intoxicated they had ever been together period.

"I wish Wayne and Grace were here," Jane remarked as they split a glass of "the Berlin." "They would have enjoyed this."

"What, these shitty drinks?" Lisbon snorted. "I feel like they could get these anywhere."

"Nahh. Drunking with us. Drinking with us, I mean. Seeing us drunk, together."

She laughed. "God no, that would be so embarrassing! I was their boss."

"Nah, they would love this. The Teresa Jane and Patrick Lisbon Show. Free admission. I mean Teresa Lisbon and-" he didn't bother to continue the correction as he got his point across. "Grace would have taken so many photos. She would have been like a... a high school yearbook blackmailer and tabloid paparazzi combined into one."

"Oh God, I would have been _so_ fired," she said, thinking back to her days of responsibility and appearances as the authority figure, though it was all quite hazy at the moment. But she still played along. "Rigbsy would have been so damn _emotional._ "

"You know it," Jane took the final swig of "the Berlin" and signaled the bartender to bring them a new order—this time the "Budapest." "The poor man would have cried."

"Tears all over the place. Would have started telling us about how beautiful and life-changing his post-college Europe tour was."

"Nah, come on woman. He would have been crying about _us._ "

"Us!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Why would he be crying about us?"

"Well clearly because he's always wanted us to get together! This would have been like a fantasy for him. Not in a gross way. He's always pinned us as a couple."

"No, you're wrong." He thought she was going to deny that their former colleagues ever saw them together, but then she said, "Van Pelt was the piner."

"Yes, she was the obvious one. But Rigsby, he was the secret one, the _real_ one."

She giggled and swatted at him playfully. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because we've gotten through all of Europe almost twice now and we're drunk off our behinds."

" _You're_ drunk. I'm perfectly fine." Lisbon made a pretty good case—she definitely handled her alcohol a lot better than him—she wasn't yet slurring her speech or mixing up her words like he was. But she had to admit to herself that she was pretty drunk nevertheless.

"Whatever you say, muffin," he replied, grinning like a fool and kissing her sloppily on the cheek.

Lisbon's smile fell just a tiny bit at the use of yet another new term of endearment. Her intoxicated mind spun around indecisively for a moment, but eventually the Wheel of Feelings stopped with its tick placed on the slice labelled "Discomfort." She had been preoccupied with work for the past few weeks and hadn't really had time to think further about the issue, but now they were case-free and frankly, inhibition-free, and the multiple European cities of alcohol in her system gave her the push to address it again.

"You know, that's still really weird to me."

"Still?" Jane wasn't surprised—he had noticed her continued discomfort over the last few weeks but had left it up to her to decide when she wanted to talk about it again. He had been trying not to go overboard, but the drunk glasses his eyes were seeing through had pictured Lisbon as a cute little muffin. A part of his mind was still drunkenly trying to figure out what flavor she would be—probably chocolate chip, from her dark hair, or blueberry, just because that was his favorite.

"Yeah." She took a big sip of their current drink and paused. "There's more I haven't told you."

"Yeah, I know." His mind settled on blueberry. For sure.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really." Of course he knew. But he hadn't said anything, which surprised her. She realized he had been putting more effort into... respecting her boundaries than she thought.

Considering this, she rested an elbow on the table and propped her chin up with her hand, leaning in closer to Jane beside her until she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I know it's been a few months now, and it has of course sunk in that we're actually... together. But..." Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she searched for the right way to word her thoughts. "I still can't shake the fear of you lying—well, misleading...well, I guess that's still lying—to me."

Jane pulled his mind down from the blueberry muffin clouds and wrangled it to focus on what she had just said. He was sad at how it took such inebriation to get Lisbon to be honest to him about her feelings, and especially how, despite his efforts, she was still afraid of him hurting her. "I'm sorry, Teresa," he said, beginning to feel quite disappointed with himself. "Tell me, how does me calling you cutesy things trigger that?" His question was free from defense or accusation—he genuinely wanted to know her answer so that he could fix it.

She sighed and broke her eyes away from his, staring down at the table. "Yeah, your nicknames are really sweet. I want to like them. But they also make me go into a sort of... fight-or-flight mode, like, 'Oh crap, what is Jane going to do next? What's the reason why he's buttering me up? What does he want from me?' I'm so used to having to watch out for stuff like that. I guess they still serve as warning signs for me to be on the lookout. Even when there isn't actually anything to look out for."

She kept her eyes averted, and so couldn't see Jane looking back at her sadly. His own fears had been confirmed—the ones he had about not being able to undo the years of lies, manipulation, and mistreatment that he had subjected her to.

He swallowed. The fun of being drunk began to fade and was replaced with frustration over not being able to think or articulate himself clearly. "You still can't trust me," he stated simply.

"No, I guess not." She looked up at him again, her eyes bright with newly-formed tears she couldn't hold back.

He swept her up in an embrace, nearly knocking over one of the many glasses on their table. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I know I can't erase all of the times I've misled you in the past. I'm trying to earn your trust now, but I know it won't be easy."

Although he couldn't see her face now, he felt her chin dig deeper into his back as she nodded. "I know."

They broke apart and he took both of her hands into his, resting them on her lap. "Listen," he said. "I love you. I call you all of those tacky names out of love. There is no ulterior motive behind them, I swear. I promise to you that they are never intended for anything other than to show that I care about you. They just come out naturally most of the time. They aren't a trick, Lisbon." Somehow him using her last name was more affecting than using her first—probably because it was more so Lisbon in the past, not Teresa, who had been subject to his schemes.

Lisbon nodded again, her chest stinging with not just relief but with guilt. She wanted to trust him. She didn't want him to have to outright tell her he was being genuine in order to calm her suspicions.

"If they affect you like this," he said, "I won't use them. I don't want to hurt you."

"No, no, it's okay," she rushed to stop the direction he was headed in. "No, I don't want you to have to filter yourself around me."

"But I-"

"No, really, it's okay. If we avoid the problem, it's still going to be there. This is just something I need to work on getting over."

"Something _we_ need to work on getting over."

"I- yeah, that's right. We." She smiled and her spirits were lifted at Jane's support and their existence as a "we."

"Good." He gave her an even wider smile. "Now, I'm getting pretty sleepy. Are _we_ ready to go to bed?" Lisbon had been a bit wary of them sharing a hotel room, deeming it rather unprofessional. But Abbott had shrugged at this, pointing out that if they were probably going to be sharing _anyway,_ the bureau might as well save some coins by renting them only one room in the first place. Her cheeks had turned red at this, but she had also been relieved over not having to sneak around.

Right on cue, Lisbon yawned. "Yep. Oh, but there's still a bit of "the Budapest" left."

Jane shrugged. "Meh, I think I have reached my limit."

She smirked and downed the rest of the glass. "Amateur."

"Hey, excuse me for looking out for my liver."

"Oh, like you have been worried about your liver all night." She looked around and he followed her gaze at the multitudes of empty drink glasses occupying their table. The busboys had come by earlier to clear the rest of the team's glasses—everything that was left was all of Jane and Lisbon's doing.

The two of them looked at each other and laughed at their night's European tour. Lisbon pulled out her card to pay, but Jane shut this down quickly and told the bartender to add the tab onto their hotel bill. She looked at him wide-eyed, but didn't protest. "Abbott is going to kill you," she said.

"What? Come on. The man knows we needed a break. He'll be all for this."

She shook her head but kept her smile as he placed an arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support as his gait was still quite impaired. "Let's go to bed," she said.

"Yes. To...the elevator!"

"Uh, it's this direction, actually."

"Ah, right on. Lead the way, Lisbon."  
  


* * *

  
Despite Lisbon's insistence on him carrying on as usual, Jane couldn't help but bite back the nicknames whenever he could help it. After all, it was pretty difficult to continue with them knowing the adverse effects they had on her. They still slipped out unconsciously at times, but became a lot less frequent than they had been before their conversation in Atlantic City.

He certainly agreed with the point that she had made though—that they had to deal with the issue rather than avoid it. And he stayed true to his word—as difficult as it was, he continued to take care to orchestrate his schemes in ways that avoided any deception of her. At times it made things much more long-winded than they needed to be, but they always caught the perpetrator in the end and it sure was worth it to preserve her trust in the process. It helped quite a bit that she was no longer the boss—a lot of what they got away with now would have caused her much bigger headaches during their CBI days.

Lisbon noticed his efforts, often surprised at the lengths he went through in order to keep her in the loop. This of course granted her more security in trusting him, and he noticed her becoming more unmoved whenever he let an "angel" or a "baby" slip during the early morning or late night hours. He ventured as far as to guess she was finally getting comfortable with the matter, but proceeded about this cautiously, not wanting to disturb any of the progress he had made into establishing her trust.

She had now even tried it out herself a few times, asking him to "shut the door please, dear" and bidding him "good night, honey." It still felt quite unnatural—not just for her, but for him too—when she used any sweet names, since she was not a very outwardly affectionate person in general. Growing up with three brothers and no mother, Lisbon had always been one to show she cared through actions—making Jane soup when he got the flu, protecting him from getting shot on the job, keeping his favorite flavors of desserts in mind while grocery shopping, and so on. It didn't bother him in the slightest that she wasn't one to sweet talk—he had already learned that for a fact many years ago. He made sure to tell her this, and she had thanked him for understanding but continued to pepper in the nicknames nevertheless. He guessed she had been true to herself after all when she said that she didn't _dis_ like the names.

They had been at headquarters for the past few weeks, working a more local case revolving around the disappearance of a local celebrity chef. It was nice to be able to sleep in familiar beds rather than hotel ones for a change. Travelling for cases was an adventure, but a rather exhausting one. The two of them both appreciated the respite. Well, respite in relative terms. The current case was still quite taxing—it had been almost a month and they still seemed to be no closer to finding a body or even figuring out if this body would be dead or alive. After yet another dinner of questionable takeout food, Jane insisted on them leaving the office. Lisbon acceded to this, knowing by now that her protest would just drag out the process unnecessarily.

The drive home was initially rather quiet, as Jane hummed along to the radio and Lisbon kept her nose buried in a case file—a profile of one of their top suspects. Or should he even be a suspect? Her mind was feeling like putty at this point, tired of being lead around in circles and hounded by the media demanding to know why the FBI still hadn't been able to locate Guy.

"Hey, it's bad for your eyes to be reading in the dark like that," Jane interjected as a song ended and the radio station cut to a commercial break. "Besides, we've already been through that file eight times today."

"Yeah, I know," she said, too tired to protest again. "It's just... where is this damn man?"

"Damn _Guy,_ you mean?" Jane corrected, playing a pun on the victim's (if he _was_ even the victim here) name.

"Ha ha. Yeah. Damn Guy. Are you dead, alive, running, hiding, what? Where are you?" She let out a sigh of exasperation.

"He's alive," Jane said with unfounded certainty. "We'll get him, Reese, don't worry." After a period of using her first name, he had naturally transitioned to the classic abbreviation.

"Ugh." She shut the file folder with a thud and slumped into the passenger seat.

A new song started to play through the radio, but Jane turned down the volume until it was more background noise. "Hey, so, I've been thinking."

"Hm? Nothing too complicated right now, please," Lisbon was only partly joking. "My brain is about to melt."

Jane didn't take his eyes off the road but smiled knowing Lisbon was no doubt pouting one of her adorable Lisbon pouts at the moment. He continued. "So, regarding the matter of nicknames again. I know it's been unsettling for you, hearing me address you with nice things, because it makes it seem like I'm sweetening you up for something more."

"Oh, yeah," Lisbon straightened up a little bit more in her seat. "I've been meaning to bring that up to you, too."

"Oh really?" Jane was surprised to hear that.

"Yeah, this case has just been a lot." She sighed again. "But anyway, I've noticed that you've been trying to refrain yourself, and even though I appreciate the sentiment, I thought we had agreed this was something that shouldn't just be avoided."

He bit his lip a little guiltily. "Yeah, I know. I just can't help it. That's what I've been thinking about, though. I have an idea."

"Oh, you do." She said this with light sarcasm, but without malice.

"Yeah." It was quite late into the evening, and yet they somehow still managed to hit traffic on the highway. The car came to a stop as they joined the sea of crawling brake lights, likely the result of a car accident. "I've been thinking—well, what if I used less flattering names for you? To eliminate any suspicion of ulterior motives."

Lisbon snorted, quite entertained. "What? _Less flattering_ names? What do you propose by that?"

"Well," he said, smiling again, free to look at her this time. "I could call you my 'unbearable woman,' my 'harpy,' my 'Kryptonite.' "

Lisbon snorted even louder now. "What! Your Kryptonite. Really. Isn't Kryptonite Superman's weakness? I have a gun. And you're saying that I'm your weakness?"

"Why yes, of course," Jane replied. "You make me weak in the knees."

She let out a rich laugh, letting go of the irritation that had begun to form over the traffic around them. "Oh shut up."

"I have some other ideas too, some more phonetic ones." He cleared his throat as if he were making an important announcement. "Reese's Pieces, 'Resa Pizza, Reesey Geesey. Take your pick."

"Oh my God, Reese's Pieces. That's what my brothers used to call me."

"Ah, so that one is out. I wanna stay original here."

She laughed again, grateful for the lighthearted distraction after such a stressful day. "Reesey Geesey? Really? That's what you came up with?"

"Well I had a little help from Marvin the goose across the street, but yeah."

"Just don't call me Mother Teresa."

"Oh God no. Why would I want to picture my girlfriend as a nun? You already wear a crucifix. I think that's reminder enough that I am being watched by the above."

"You're the worst," she said, jokingly. "But seriously though, it's okay. You don't have to stop with the cute names."

"But I don't-"

"No, really. I mean-" She hesitated as if she were admitting something scandalous. "I don't _want_ you to stop."

"Oh, okay. It's okay?" He asked again, even though he didn't need more confirmation.

"Yeah, it's okay. You've been..." she hesitated again before opening up. "You've been really good about everything. To me. It's still not totally easy to do, but I trust you, Jane. I think my internal alarm sirens are starting to calm down. And... I like it when you call me things." It was a big weight off her shoulders to finally be able to say that. The latest case, while stressful, had also highlighted to her the fact that she was remarkably stressed purely about the case, rather than a combination of the case and the consultant, the usual mix of the past.

Hearing this brought Jane great joy. "Wonderful," he said. "So in that case, I can just add these more zesty nicknames to the existing repertoire, yes?"

She rolled her eyes but enjoyed the attention. "Yeah, go crazy."

"Will do, my Kryptonite."

The look of love he gave her made Lisbon feel quite weak herself, though she knew that he was now her strength and not her weakness. She began to form another thought, but this was interrupted by the blare of a horn belonging to the car behind them, snapping them back to their surroundings. The traffic was finally thinning out and they were free to go on home.  
  


* * *

  
It was interesting that something as seemingly mundane as pet names could be used to define the early stages of their new relationship. As time went on, Jane found himself having to worry less about how they affected Lisbon, until he was finally able to carry on with the nicknames without having to fret at all. He enjoyed the opportunities to diversify his portfolio over time, and built up quite an arsenal of monikers for all moods and situations. Lisbon remained relatively shy about using them with him, but he could tell that she still enjoyed the attention, and enjoyed the fact that he spent enough time thinking about her to come up with all of these interesting ways to address her.

Work remained a central part of their lives, and they whirled through cases like revolving doors. On a particular September evening, Jane was in the kitchen, tidying up after dinner and contemplating which seasonal baked goods he should make for dessert. Lisbon wasn't in his company—she had scarfed down her plate like a tiger and scurried away to get back to work, even though she had claimed she was done for the night.

He was taking a gander through her spice rack (which was pretty much also his spice rack by now) when he heard her call from the living room.

"Hey, Jane?"

"Yes, Lisbon?" He didn't have to raise his voice too much for it to travel to her.

"Can you get me a cup of coffee, please?"

Jane shook his head in disapproval, though she couldn't see him. It was late. Nevertheless, he responded with an "Of course," and opened the cupboard where she kept her coffee grounds.

A few minutes later, he made his way to her with a steaming mug. He had figured that she would be too distracted to notice if he gave her decaf. Sure enough, he found Lisbon curled up on the living room sofa, her nose buried in a stack of evidence reports from their latest case and her mind a world away.

She didn't look up as he approached her, but graciously accepted the hot mug into her hands. "Thanks, baby."

This caught him by surprise. It was the first time he had seen her use an endearment so effortlessly. Unlike before, she didn't seem self-conscious in the slightest. Actually, she didn't seem conscious at all of the fact that she had just called him "baby." There was no hesitation or momentary recoil, no bracing herself for a feeling of embarrassment that would never come. He watched as she took a cautious sip of the coffee and then a bigger gulp after she deemed the temperature safe. Her eyes met his for a second to give him a quick smile of gratitude, and then he lost her again to the files.

Jane smiled to himself and started to make his way back to the kitchen to tend to their desserts. "Of course, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter kicking off this story! I had a great time writing this and I look forward to working on the next subject. I have a few in mind right now but feel free to leave requests as well!


	2. Chapter 2

**II. SUPPORT**

Not too long after they became an item, the team was assigned to a case revolving around a serial rapist and killer notorious for targeting children of the foster system. Cases with young victims of course always hit harder for everyone, but this case particularly struck a nerve with Lisbon, who took it rather personally given her own traumatic childhood. The perpetrator's crimes were appalling to begin with, but his smug demeanor and penchant for reading people (à la Jane) made him absolutely unbearable. There was nothing worse than a serial killer except a serial killer who also happened to be a giant smartass, and Julius Hanson fit the bill perfectly.  
  
Hanson used his own people-reading abilities to his full advantage, and taunted the team for weeks, reveling in their failures to outcon him. The killer made no efforts to distance himself and became close enough to to the team that they got on a first-name basis. Usually Jane would have enjoyed the challenge, but there was no light-hearted banter here, as every mistake they made gave Hanson opportunity to steal another child's dignity and life. It took months to finally nab him. By this time, Lisbon was practically bursting at the seams with pent-up frustration, resentment, and disgust. She hadn't snapped, but it seemed like just a matter of time before she did.  
  
Hanson dug his deepest claw into her during their final encounter. They had just finally arrested him, and it was the time to negotiate before his lawyer arrived. Lisbon had no desire to cut any deals with such a vile character, but orders were orders, and the locations of many bodies were still unknown. Given the killer's mentalizing abilities, Jane joined her in the interrogation room.  
  
Hanson was obviously not interested in negotiating anything himself, and took the final opportunity to rile them up. "You know," he said, blatantly ignoring the direct question Lisbon had just asked him. "You're just like them." Lisbon did not entertain him with an answer to this, but he continued anyway. "You're a lost one."  
  
This was what he referred to his victims as— _lost ones_. "Funny that you've been able to survive this long, that you've been able to grow up. But you don't fool me, my dear Teresa. I can see right through you. You lost your childhood to a terrible tragedy—no, multiple, in fact—that can never be erased. It's a shame that you will never be whole. On your own, anyway."  
  
An instinct to defend Lisbon rushed over Jane, but he refrained, as she had instructed him to do before they had entered the room. _Don't engage or entertain him._ Beside him, Lisbon drew in a sharp breath, but retained her composure as well. "Stop," she said, simply but sternly. "We're here to discuss _you,_ Mr. Hanson."  
  
Hanson placed a hand over his chest and feigned a look of great offense. "Come on," he said. "How many times do I have to tell you that just _Julius_ is preferable, sweet Teresa? I understand though, dear, I know you have daddy issues... I could have fixed that, you know."  
  
Jane's stomach turned like a washing machine on spin cycle and it became even harder to restrain himself from taking a swing at this man who was talking to Lisbon in such a disgusting manner. His attention shifted, however, when his eyes moved from Hanson to Lisbon. Jane lost any concerns about his own feelings when he saw Lisbon's eyes start glowing with anger like a dragon awakening from slumber. As usual however, she kept her cool. Her voice remained calm and steady, her arms still neatly rested on the interrogation room table.  
  
But then Hanson kept pushing forward. He eyed her up and down and smirked. "It's such a shame that our paths had to cross in this manner. If only we had met under different circumstances. We would have had such _fun_ together. With all of my experience, I would have shown you a _much_ better time than this clown over here"—he tilted his head in a slight nod towards Jane's direction—"could ever provide you. Ah, Teresa, it would have been such a pleasure. Oh, I would have fucked-"  
  
Lisbon's arm moved only for a second before Jane put a hand on it to anchor it to the table. As soon as the crass word had left Hanson's mouth, an entire scenario had played out in Jane's mind—one where Lisbon finally decided enough was enough and landed a sucker punch hard enough to break the killer's nose, a punch that would feel entirely satisfying in the moment but lead to mountains of regret and headaches just minutes afterwards. It would have given Hanson more legal leverage against them, and, definitely worst of all, added to his already sick fantasies.  
  
"That's enough," Jane declared firmly, knowing he did not have the authority to end the meeting but deciding that it was necessary. Lisbon aside, he noticed that he himself was dangerously close to causing physical harm.  
  
He could almost see the dragonfire blowing out of Lisbon's nose now, but to his relief she did not try to lunge again. She took a long pause, glaring at Hanson the entire time, and then stood up abruptly, her chair screeching unpleasantly against the cold floor. "We're done here," she said, and strided out of the room with Jane close behind her.  
  
Once out of the room, Lisbon made a beeline for the office kitchen. Jane followed as she marched to the water cooler and poured herself a tall glass, gulping it down quickly, literally cooling down. He was prepared to be there for her—to listen to her vent, to embrace her, to take her out for a walk, or all of the above.  
  
"Lisbon-" He came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, but retracted it when she recoiled.  
  
"I'm fine. He was just a pig." Still facing the water cooler, she began filling up her glass for a second round.  
  
"The hell he was. I'm sorry you had to-"  
  
"Don't worry, I'm fine." She said this through gritted teeth and was very obviously not fine.

Jane hesitated. He wasn't sure where the boundaries laid now, but his top priority was to help her. "You're hurt."  
  
She turned around to face him, and he took a step back as he saw that her piercing glare was now directed at him. Her face softened at the sight of him flinching, reminding herself that she did not want to direct her anger towards him. "I'm okay," she said determinedly. "I just need a minute." And with that, she all but slammed her glass down onto the counter and briskly exited the kitchen.  
  
Jane respected her wishes and did not follow. Instead, he filled her glass a third time and took it to her desk, setting it down in the one corner spared from the jumbles of files, photographs, scrap papers, and paper clips strewn over the surface. Figuring she was not coming back anytime soon, he took the opportunity to organize the contents into neat stacks, grateful to have material to occupy his hands as his mind continued running on overdrive.  
  
The glow he had seen in Lisbon's eyes was concerning, but not new to Jane—he had seen her restrain strong emotions many times before. After all, it was part of her job to maintain order, and she had been practicing this almost all of her life, even before she joined law enforcement. In the past he had seen the anger bubbling, observed her locking it away, and regarded the process as a standard function of her well-oiled machine. He had presumed that she had a secure outlet for the emotions—high intensity exercise, and sometimes alcohol, very cautiously. Every now and then she had entertained him in showing her different mental and breathing exercises to uncoil stress. But Jane always knew that what she displayed to him was just the surface, and there was still a lot more that the sunlight did not hit. He had known it would have been uncomfortably invasive for the both of them if he dug further, and seeing that Lisbon managed her emotions well on her own, he had let her be.  
  
Things were different now, however. They were together, and he wanted them to truly be _together,_ sharing each other's struggles, no matter how typical, and facing them in tandem. He had certainly bared himself to Lisbon over the years—she had seen him at his worst, seen his darkest, most jagged, most twisted sides. And she had been an integral force in keeping him from succumbing entirely to them, especially in his chase of Red John. The scales remained uneven now, and Jane was determined to tip them more in the direction of Lisbon's favor.  
  
He decided it was time to start chipping away at her armor.  
  


* * *

  
Jane knew that it wouldn't be easy to coax Lisbon into sharing her struggles with him. Years of being a mother figure to her brothers and then an authority figure to her unit had given her considerable experience and comfort in taking care of things on her own. Resistance was expected. However, he also thought the years of friendship they had shared would give him a good head start. As it turned out, getting Lisbon to open up was still like peeling an onion made out of concrete. It took some time, requiring quite a bit of patience as well as caution to ensure that the layers did not completely crumble.  
  
Work, of course, was the central stressor in both of their lives. Understandably, chasing down society's most wicked individuals took a toll on one's morale. Long hours, puzzling cases, and unscrupulous suspects resulted in under-eye circles and many weekends dedicated to simply just resting. However, every now and then, something else got tossed into the mix. For Lisbon, this was more often than not relating to her family.  
  
Her cousin Garrett phoned her one morning to air some grievances against Thomas, the eldest of her younger brothers. Though Lisbon had had three brothers growing up, for a period of time it had felt like four—Garrett's mother struggled after her divorce, and had recruited Lisbon to watch over Garrett while she got back on her feet. He was basically the fourth Lisbon brother.  
  
Garrett was quite worked up over the phone now, and had a lot to say. Too much to say, in fact, and Lisbon struggled to keep up with his words, especially given that she had only just started her Friday morning coffee. Perhaps he had forgotten about their two-hour timezone difference. She sat quite sadly in her kitchen, listening to Garrett rant as Jane brewed his tea.  
  
The details were muddled, but from what Lisbon gathered, Tommy had borrowed a significant amount of money from Garrett, had failed to pay him back, and now wasn't returning his calls. Garrett needed the money back soon, as his restaurant business was not doing so well and his diabetic husband was due for refills of insulin.  
  
"Absolutely ridiculous! I can't believe him! Honestly thought I could trust the bastard, but I guess that's on me for thinking he could follow through on something for once. Remember the whole cabin debacle in '08? Jesus, Reese, I don't know what to do. I know you're busy and hate to bother you, but I know he'll answer if you called."  
  
Lisbon had been fully anticipating this request, but still winced when it arrived. Of course she understood Garrett's frustration and too was concerned about getting his husband his insulin. But mediating these kinds of conflicts took buckets of time and patience, both of which she was running rather dry on at the moment. A bonus layer of guilt for feeling reluctant was the icing on the cake.  
  
She closed her eyes, pouting, and rubbed a temple with her free hand. Jane sat across from her, sipping his tea and looking rather amused at the drama. Lisbon mustered up the strength to sound sufficiently sympathetic.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Garrett. I understand your frustration and I want Frank to be able to get his insulin, too. I will give Tommy a call today."  
  
Before Garrett could respond, she quickly added her escape from the conversation. "I have to leave for work now, but I will get on this as soon as I can. Don't worry. We'll figure this out, okay?"  
  
Garrett verbalized his understanding and thankfully did not drag his ranting on longer. The call ended, and Lisbon set her phone down on the kitchen table with a heavy sigh.  
  
Jane came around to her side of the table and placed a hand on her back. "A new case for Mother Teresa?"  
  
Lisbon didn't share his amusement, which had increased further at the sight of her pouting again. "Mother Teresa is tired," she replied.  
  
He moved his hand in a circular motion on her back, attempting to comfort her. It did feel quite nice, but was no match for the dread that hung over her now. Lisbon knew that talking to Tommy about money was going to open a can of worms and all sorts of creatures.  
  
The morning went by quickly as the team familiarized themselves with a new case, this time involving a local storage facility that had been tagged as the new headquarters for a money-laundering scheme. Lisbon welcomed the opportunity to get her mind off of her family troubles, but before she knew it it was lunchtime, and also time to call Tommy.  
  
As Garrett had predicted, Tommy picked up the phone when she called. As she had expected, the conversation was not as simple or to the point as she aimed it to be, no matter how hard she tried.  
  
"You always do this! Why can't you just trust me?"  
  
"Do you really need to ask that question, Tommy?"  
  
"I'm always the bad guy. None of you guys ever give me credit for anything. And why does Garrett always think he's one of us? Aunt Pat struck gold with Gill—Garrett only struggled for like, a year. Why does Garrett always act like he's so strapped for cash?" Not too long after her divorce, their aunt had gotten remarried to a wealthy businessman. Gill had taken good care of her and Garrett, and Tommy was still hanging onto his jealousy of them.  
  
"Because he _is_ strapped for cash. _His_ cash. That you borrowed and haven't given back."  
  
"I already told him I wasn't prepared to re-pay him yet! It's not like I'm living it up over here, you know. Asking again doesn't change that."  
  
"Is there any way you can think of to get some emergency cash together? Could you pawn-"  
  
"No! I'm not doing that."  
  
Lisbon sighed. "Well, could you-"  
  
"I already know what you're going to say and the answer is no."  
  
"Look, Frank needs his insulin, and-"  
  
"C'mon, we both know that Frank just needs to cut back on Dunkin' Donuts."  
  
She huffed at the lack of progress in resolving the conflict. Lisbon yearned for the lunch that was still back at her desk, untouched. Oh, what she would give for a chance to eat a simple meal, undisturbed.  
  
"Tommy," she said with the sternness of her final warning. "You need to take responsibility for this. Take some time to cool down, and then give Garrett a call so you guys can sort this out. Like adults."  
  
"But why should-"  
  
"Just _do it!_ " Lisbon hung up the call abruptly, and immediately felt guilty for doing so. She considered phoning Tommy back to apologize for it, but did not want to reinsert herself into their cycle of bickering. With a sigh, she went to go get her lunch, though its appeal had now faded. She knew the conflict was far from over, and that she would still have to phone Garrett again herself.  
  
Jane had been noticeably absent all morning, preoccupied with weaseling his way into the gang suspected of running the money laundering scheme. He returned just as she was taking the last few bites of her lunch. Lisbon loved Jane without a doubt, but in this moment she was not excited to see him, especially with such active energy on his face.  
  
"Lisbon!" he bounded over to her desk. "Guess what I did this morning."  
  
She had to admit that his bright smile was lifting her mood a little. "Did you play chess with Katsaros?" The leader of the gang was known for his knack for board games.  
  
"No, not chess. He and his friends taught me how to play this card game, Biriba. It's great fun, I can show you later tonight."  
  
Lisbon smiled and shook her head. Of course Jane would successfully befriend the leader of the gang in just one morning. "So you're buddies now?"  
  
"Practically brothers. He wants me to be his partner in the next game."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Though she was smiling, it wasn't hard for Jane to detect the stress behind it. "The call with Tommy went as you expected, eh?"  
  
Lisbon groaned. "Ugh, yeah."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
It was sweet of him to offer, but Lisbon was confident that she didn't need it. She had spent years resolving sibling conflicts and was unfortunately the best candidate to do so. "No, that's alright. Thank you."  
  
"Okay. Just let me know."  
  
"I will."  
  
The hours went by and Lisbon procrastinated checking in on Garrett and Tommy. By five o'clock, she had four missed calls from them. She made a plan for the evening—get home. Have a snack. Make and eat dinner. Prepare to call Garrett and Tommy. Accept her fate. Call Garrett and Tommy. Take a hot shower. Sleep early. It seemed straightforward enough, but dread still hung over her knowing that her day was far from over.  
  
She had it all lined up in her head, and then realized that she hadn't taken Jane into account. He had been so excited to show her how to play Biriba, and he usually stayed the night on Fridays. A little pang of guilt hit her again for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Jane would have to wait until she straightened out this mess.  
  
As she approached, he sat up on his sofa and began reaching for his suit jacket. "Hey, ready to go?"  
  
Lisbon's guilt grew. "Hey," she said, hesitantly. "I don't think you should come over tonight." She glanced around, making sure no one was near enough to overhear then. The coast was clear—most of the office had left for the evening.  
  
Jane frowned. "You don't _want_ me to come over." He saw her armor beginning to steel itself around her, isolating her with her problems.  
  
"I just-" Lisbon knew there was no use trying to skirt around it. "I just need some time alone tonight."  
  
He stood up from the sofa so that they were at eye level and gently wrapped a hand around her arm. "Teresa, I know you're really bothered with what's happening between your little ducklings. I'm sorry. But you don't have to do this alone—I'm here."  
  
His hand felt more invasive than comforting to Lisbon, and she felt an urge to shrug it off. "I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this myself."  
  
"I'm not doubting that you can."  
  
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" She dismissed him and turned to leave, but Jane's hand remained wrapped around her arm.  
  
"Come on, love, please don't walk away."  
  
The endearment tugged at her heart but then produced a feeling of anger as she felt coerced into changing her mind.  
  
"Let go of me."  
  
He released her arm promptly, but held onto the matter. "You can't just suddenly decide when you want me and when you don't, Lisbon. I'm not exactly a part-time guy."  
  
Lisbon, already short a fuse before their conversation, was now pretty miffed. "This isn't about you. Don't make this about you, Jane."  
  
"Yes it is, because it's about _you._ Things that are about _you_ are about _me_ now, too."  
  
"Oh stop it. I'm still my own person. And so are you."  
  
"That's not what I meant, I-"  
  
"Look, Jane, I'm really tired, okay? I just want to go home. Like I said, I'll call you tomorrow."  
  
Jane resorted to a short nod, but he doubted that Lisbon saw it because she was already leaving. _The nerve of that man._  
  
Running behind on schedule, she didn't take enough time to catch a breath before diving back into the Garrett v. Thomas drama. The four missed calls from the afternoon came back to bite her in the ass, as she found out that Garrett and Tommy were now _both_ refusing to speak to each other. _Children._  
  
After over an hour of forcing the two of them into a conference call and troubleshooting different solutions, she ended up wiring some of her own money to Garrett to cover costs for the time being. It solved the immediate problem regarding finances, but did nothing to help the relationships between the three of them. On the contrary, it complicated them further.  
  
Garrett now owed her money, and Tommy still owed Garrett. She could have paid off Garrett on Tommy's behalf, but this would have hurt Tommy's pride as well as enforced the already-stubborn pattern of her coming to his rescue. Garrett would not have been happy with this, either, as it would not have given him the satisfaction of Tommy himself paying up. So, nobody won in the end. Well, except for Frank, who would now be able to get his insulin. Lisbon tried her best to hold onto this one positive outcome of the situation.  
  
Her mind dug deeper into the roots of their family problems. Lisbon never asked to be a mother figure to her brothers, and most of the time she didn't feel like a very good one. She did her best, but she had been just a kid when she was shoved into the position and had been improvising ever since. The responsibility came with so much guilt—guilt over having more than her brothers, over moving to the West Coast and being less accessible to them, and over not being able to ever replace their real mother. She often wondered how things would have been different if her mother had lived.  
  
She was quite sad now, especially as memories of her mother flooded through her head. It had been many decades since her mother passed, but the grief never fully did. Lisbon experienced an uncomfortable sensation she initially labelled as cold—but it was the middle of August in Texas and her AC wasn't even running. She went to look for a cardigan before she realized it wasn't atmospheric warmth that she was craving, but rather a fuzzier kind of warmth. Specifically the kind she got from Jane.  
  
Making Friday night dinner without him had been strange. Her home now seemed eerily, rather than peacefully, quiet. She tried to shake this off, even scolding herself—she shouldn't _need_ him around to have a good time. Still, his unusual absence made her realize how prominent his presence now was in her home. And in her life, for that matter.  
  
She was right, she didn't _need_ him to solve her problems. But she realized that she still did _want_ him there with her that night. She wanted his hand on her back, his fingers running through her hair, his gentle eyes crinkling deep in thought as he listened to her. She had spent all of her life handling things on her own, why deny herself the support that was being offered to her now? Especially coming from someone who obviously cared very much about her.  
  
In the past, Jane had been the one to shut her out and walk away when things got serious. She was so used to being the one worrying about him and being hurt by him—it hadn't occurred to her that the situation could be so easily reversed now. He had made a good point—things were different now that they were together, now that they had made a commitment to each other beyond being good friends.  
  
Lisbon checked her cell phone—no notifications of calls or texts from Jane. She was grateful that he had respected her request to be alone, but also disappointed because there was no initial inquiry to reply to. She waffled over it for a few minutes, and then swallowed her pride and called him.  
  
He picked up on the third ring. "Lisbon, I thought you said you would call tomorrow."  
  
Lisbon hesitated again. She wasn't used to changing her mind so drastically like this, usually regarding it as a weakness. "Hey, about earlier," she began. "I... I'm sorry for walking away. ...Do you actually want to come over? You know, if it isn't too much of a hassle at this hour..."  
  
She could almost hear him grinning over the phone. "I would love to," he said. "For the night?"  
  
"Of course." Lisbon told herself that her answer was for practical reasons—it was late now, and it wouldn't have made much sense for him to come over for just an hour or two. But she couldn't deny that she also just wanted him to stay the night.  
  
He was at her doorstep half an hour later, still wearing his three-piece suit as if he had come straight from the office. _Wait, he probably_ had _come from the office._ She frowned at the likelihood of this. "You didn't even go home? Have you had anything to eat?"  
  
Jane ignored her questions in favor of wrapping his arms around her in one of his bear-like hugs. Lisbon accepted the embrace, and her chest was immediately satisfied with the fuzzy warmth it had desired.  
  
She heated up some of her leftovers from dinner, and tugged at him to take off his suit jacket. "Cocky," she said. "You were counting on me caving, weren't you?"  
  
He obliged and shed his jacket and vest, grinning guiltily. "I knew you would miss me."  
  
"Eh, more like have sympathy for you. You would have gone hungry without me."  
  
He ate quickly, and soon enough they were both lying on the living room sofa, her back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her once again. She warmed up by telling him about the outcome of the Garrett and Tommy situation. After dipping her toes in this, she ventured into talking about the guilt she felt around her family in general.  
  
As expected, Jane listened intently and thoughtfully. He reassured her that, while her guilt was understandable, it was definitely not justified or deserved. She had done a hell of a good job raising her brothers, and it was even more impressive given the rough hand she had been dealt in the first place. This wasn't anything Lisbon herself hadn't known already, but she did notice that it made a bigger impact to hear it from someone else. She decided that sharing her problems with Jane wasn't so bad after all.  
  
"Lisbon, listen," said Jane. "I know it's important to you that we stay our own individuals in this, but alongside that we also exist as something _together._ You aren't alone anymore. I don't want you to deny that."  
  
Lisbon twisted her body, loosening Jane's grip so that she could turn around to face him. "You're right," she said, biting her lip before continuing. "I do want you. I'm sorry I make it seem like I don't sometimes. I do want you, Jane. Full-time."  
  
Jane smiled mischievously at her words. "Hmm," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Do you think you could repeat that? Using my first name? And perhaps with a huskier voice?"  
  
Lisbon turned red and slapped him on the arm. She was nevertheless amused, and enticed. Her mind now a lot more at ease than before, she laughed and reached towards his collar to begin unbuttoning his shirt. Jane was also good at helping her de-stress in ways that didn't exactly require talking.  
  


* * *

  
 _"Hey, are you okay?" She walked up to him and saw a familiar look of distress on his face.  
  
He froze and didn't respond in words, but his darkened eyes gave her a negative answer.  
  
"Okay," she said. "Let's go." She put a hand on his shoulder and led him away from the crime scene. "How about I finish up here while you head to the victim's workplace?"  
  
He nodded gratefully in agreement. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched carefully as he drove away. Then she headed back to the other side of the police tape, where a golden-haired mother and her young daughter laid in their beds, lifeless._  
  
While Lisbon had some trouble accepting Jane's support in the beginning, she had no issue being there for him. She already had been for years, and didn't have to think twice about how to continue after they got together. Watching out for him had been second nature to her for a long time.  
  
Though Jane had now passed the darkest chapter of his life, it still occasionally came out from the shadows to beckon him to return. Of course, Lisbon never allowed this to happen. It was incredible how much power she held in the matter. She brought him great comfort, stability, and clarity. She was his daily reminder of how much progress he had made, and how dearly he cherished his life in the present.  
  
 _He woke up in a sweat, his heart whirring in his chest. The room was pitch black, but his eyes still saw red everywhere. Blood.  
  
Both of his wrists were anchored to the bed by an outside force. This increased his panic initially, but then the source brought him into full consciousness. "Hey." It was Lisbon.  
  
He let out a loud exhale of relief, and the tension in his muscles began to lighten. He couldn't see her, but he felt her small body hovering above him, her warm breath reaching his neck, each of her knees pressed against his respective sides.  
  
Feeling him relax, she released his wrists and cupped his face firmly with one hand. Not aggressively, but reassuringly. "Hey," she said again. "It's okay. I'm here."  
  
And he was okay.  
_  
She came to his rescue whenever the demons from his past came to taunt him. Sometimes she didn't even have to do anything but look him in the eye in order to bring him back. There was often no telling when the pain would come—sometimes in the middle of day, at work, sometimes late at night, in bed. One of the things Jane knew he could count on the most was Lisbon's iron grip on his wrists whenever he had nightmares. She held onto him, pinned him if necessary, until he returned to reality and calmed down. It made him feel safe—as if she was physically protecting him from being dragged away by his demons.  
  
Of course, Jane didn't want Lisbon to _baby_ him—he didn't need her to. And she didn't. She wasn't a mother figure to him like she was to her brothers, but rather the indestructible woman who had stood by him for years and walked with him through hell. She understood him, accepted him, and fought for him. Jane was often in awe of how lucky he was, to have found someone with such devotion. He wasn't sure if he could ever get their scales close to even, but he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lisbon working towards it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I got pretty dramatic at the end there but I couldn't help myself hahaha. Hope you guys enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hahah I feel so scandalous with this chapter title)
> 
> Hi guys, sorry it has been a while since the last update—I started school so I'm super busy. This is only the first part of the next chapter. I'm still working on editing the rest, but I wanted to go ahead and post the first part so that you guys know I haven't abandoned the story!
> 
> Despite the topic of the chapter, this is pretty mild in terms of content. I'm gonna up the rating from K to T. The next part of the chapter has a little more detail, but I'm a chicken so it still isn't going to be super explicit.
> 
> I'm still working my way through my re-watch and I'm on the beginning of season 5 now! I'm trying to time it so that I get to the finale during holiday break, when I have time to properly spiral like it's 2015 again. It's wild re-watching the show. There are so many things I forgot about and it's great feeling like I'm watching it for the first time again haha.

**III. SEX**

The first time they slept together was unfortunately a little awkward and disappointing. It wasn't the spontaneous, aggressive, fabric-ripping passionate sex that one might have expected from two people who had spent over a decade on their paths to each other. It wasn't mindless or carnal—quite the opposite, in fact.

It happened not too long after Jane's confession to Lisbon on the plane, after a light evening of cooking and watching some comically bad television. Things felt calm, stable. She had tactfully ended things with Pike (who was not the least bit surprised), successfully regained her position in Austin (though Abbott hadn't yet dissolved it in the first place), and cancelled the shipments of her belongings to DC. The two of them were back in their usual routine at work. They had been spending a lot of time together, but were still taking things rather slow. Both were content with this, as the transition from friends to lovers came with a lot of adjustment. It still felt a bit surreal going home with each other in the evening. Though this was a frequent occurrence by now, Jane still hadn't spent the night at Lisbon's.

That night however, as the clock ticked closer to the time he usually left for home, Jane realized that he didn't want to leave. Similarly, Lisbon realized she didn't want him to. Both of them picked up on their mutual hesitation to separate. Without spoken words, they converged on the idea of an alternative to this. It was something they both had been mulling over for a while, both wondering when the right time would be. This seemed to be it.

From his spot next to her on the sofa, Jane leaned in but paused before he reached her mouth. He had done this many times recently, before kissing her—he loved looking into her bright eyes and seeing her pupils dilate. This time, however, the air in the small space between them was heavy with a different kind of anticipation. The spark in his eyes and the slight smirk on her face communicated to each other that they were on the same page with their intentions, and she stood up from the living room sofa to lead him to her bedroom.

It wasn't the first time Jane had been on her bed, but it was the first time he had been _in_ her bed. Their hearts raced as they stepped forward into the next dimension of their relationship. Despite the adrenaline rushing through them, they started off cautiously, wanting to relish every moment. The sex started off without problems. Instinctually and physically, it felt good. It was fun. It was soon enough that Jane was still impeded by his ankle injury, which became a source of amusement when they had to change positions to accommodate it. It was exciting and enchanting, being with each other in a way they had never been before. Their hearts warmed with mutual affection.

However, somewhere along the way their thoughts shifted, and the initial euphoria gave way to nervousness. Sleeping together was a bigger step than either of them had anticipated. Suddenly, they became more conscious of the line that had run between them, delineating the boundaries of their individual existences. They had long known about this line, but had underestimated the significance of stepping across it into each other's spaces. Feelings of awkwardness crept upon them as they confronted this. They started to feel self-conscious about being so... _exposed_ to each other.

They had teetered around that line for years, but managed to keep themselves behind it because the timing had just never been right. The required levels of courage had never aligned with the windows of opportunity—until now. When they had kissed in the TSA interrogation room, it had felt like the world had paused. Like the Earth had stopped spinning just for a few moments as everything finally, finally lined up. Jane had confessed. Lisbon had chosen him. They were finally getting together, after years of pushing and pulling and bruises and tears. Everything had felt so right, and they had felt so certain of themselves and their desire to enter this new stage of life.

But now, they found themselves hesitant. Surely, that line had existed for a reason. They were _friends._ It felt like their new relationship up until then had been fun, fluffy, easy. They had kissed, laughed, embraced, made up for lost time. But sleeping together seemed to be what made it real. They had now leapt across the line and there was absolutely no turning back—kisses could potentially be refunded and brushed under the rug but this definitely could not.

As their bodies collided, vignettes of their friendship flashed through their minds like a clip show. They saw Jane convincing Lisbon to do a trust fall. Lisbon punching Culpepper for Jane. Him hypnotizing her. Her pulling him out of his fugue state. The two of them, sharing ice cream on the roof of the CBI. Keeping each other awake on late night drives through California. Under other circumstances the flashbacks would have been a pleasant, nostalgic testament to how far they had come.

Under present circumstances, however, they were reminders of what they would lose if they messed this whole thing up. The memories, good and bad, intertwined to weave the iron fibers of their friendship. They had been important to each other for so long that they could not imagine their lives without each other. Losing that bond over a failed relationship would be a devastation both knew they would not recover from. _Was this worth it?_

Indeed, it was a bit much to think about while trying to have a good time in bed. They both tried to concentrate on enjoying the experience, but this just added an extra layer of overthinking on top of everything else. It played out like a self-fulfilling prophecy—their fears resulted in an awkward, subpar time, which in turn caused more fears over whether it had been a good idea to begin with. It was far from heart-stopping and ended with a whimper (but not the good kind). Lisbon was the one to put a stop to it, deciding that there was only so much discomfort that could be explained by first-time nerves.

In the end they felt quite disappointed with themselves, and even a little embarrassed at falling so short of their expectations. They were unusually and overly polite to each other for some time afterwards. Strangely, it almost felt like sleeping together had pulled them further apart rather than closer together, which of course sounded off more alarms in both of their heads.

They feared they would realize that they had made a grave mistake misinterpreting a strong platonic relationship for a romantic one. Perhaps they were indeed more than platonic, but still less than romantic, and had failed to realize this gray area in favor of reaching for the more alluring extremes. Both anticipated feeling burning regret the next morning, or perhaps more dull, delayed regret a few mornings after.

But then they... didn't.

The regret never arrived. It took them both a week to stop waiting for it. In place of the expected regret, they experienced longing. Longing to do it again, and to do it right and enjoy it this time. This pleasantly surprised them both, but they restrained their feelings in fear of acting prematurely. Jane, usually confident about his ability to read Lisbon, hesitated to regard his observations as more than wishful thinking.

Communication was never their strong suit. She historically tended to be too guarded, reluctant to share. He was guarded too, but had mastered the art of speaking much while revealing little, giving off the illusion of openness. These characteristics persisted, and thus they remained in a strange limbo for a good week or two. They clung to their previous comfort zone of fun and fluff, and tried to avoid thinking too much about the greater implications that lay deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was interesting to think through how Jane and Lisbon may have handled the matter of sex when they first got together! Obviously they worked it out eventually (basically all I remember from the finale hehe), but in my mind they were definitely awkward about it at first because they had been friends for so long. It must've been weird.
> 
> Anyways, as always, thanks for reading! It's so comforting to me that people are still reading Mentalist fics on here :')


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience guys! Here's the rest of the chapter. It's a continuation of chapter 3, but I don't want to mess anything up with the formatting so I'm just going to post it as chapter 4 for now.
> 
> I'm still re-watching the show and I'm near the end of season 5 now. Apologies for any continuity errors with anything that happens after this—I'll go back and fix any glaring errors after I finish re-watching. I've been trying to watch the show like it's the first time again so I haven't been Googling to check on things that happen in later seasons.

**IV. SEX (pt. 2)**

The second time they slept together felt more worthy of being a milestone than the first.

It was a Saturday night, and they had dinner reservations at a snazzy new Indian restaurant. Lisbon usually did not care much for glamor, but Jane had insisted on them going to a more upscale place after weeks of cheap takeout. They had just closed a case, and she welcomed the opportunity to sit back and treat themselves to a nice meal.

The awkwardness from their first time sleeping together had worn off at this point. The desire they felt for each other had persisted, and it had become very clear to both that they indeed did _not_ want to be just friends. The anxious thoughts over the implications of sleeping together had been replaced with thoughts of wanting to do it again. They both knew it was only a matter of time before they did, but _when_ exactly was still unclear. They had spent the last few weeks dancing around it, waiting for the other person to give the green light.

Jane arrived at Lisbon's door at half past six, cleaned up nicely in a button-down shirt and trendy corduroy pants. Ironically, this was much more casual than his everyday three-piece suit. He had finished getting ready rather early—it was still a full hour before their reservation. As he expected, Lisbon answered the door in an oversized T-shirt and with a witty remark about his punctuality. As she got dressed, he passed time in her kitchen reorganizing the cupboard. Although he sorted it neatly every time he put dishes away, it inevitably became disordered after she went through it.

He decided to make a move later that night, towards sleeping with her again. The lust was nearly unbearable by now, and he was certain that he would have to be the one to give in first. He wasn't very sure of how he would go about it exactly, which humored him. It wasn't like he needed to _woo_ her or anything—they were already a couple. Still, he felt some pressure to do it right, and he wanted to be sure she was on the same page _._

Lisbon reappeared half an hour later, and Jane had to consciously stop himself from dropping the plate in his hands. His eyes widened at the sight of her in a dress he hadn't seen before—a black wrap that stopped a little above her knees. The body of the dress was form-fitting while the sleeves were loose, making her appear somehow both dainty and sexy at the same time. He scanned her up and down. Her mascara made her even more doe-eyed, and her dark red lipstick contrasted nicely with her complexion. Small, glistening stones hung from her ears like dewdrops.

She looked so damn _good._ Jane's heart began to race as he took in the image of her in the doorway, all dressed up to go out with him. It had sunk in that they were actually together, but he still felt the urge to pinch himself and make sure.

Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him. "Too fancy?" she asked.

"Not at all," Jane replied, a little breathlessly. "If anything, I'm the one underdressed."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you're overdressed every day."

"True." He grinned and finally put away the plate he had been gripping onto, pulling himself together. "You look beautiful. Shall we go?"

Jane had insisted the previous day that they walk to the restaurant, as it was "only twenty minutes away" and the weather was forecasted to be very pleasant. Lisbon had been distracted at the time and offhandedly agreed. She had then hoped he would let go of the idea, but hadn't counted on it. Indeed, he had come wearing comfortable shoes for walking, and so she acceded and reached into her shoe closet for strappy sandals. If they ate (or drank) too much they could always call a cab home, she reasoned.

The sun had gone down, but Lisbon's street was well-lit and the sidewalk faintly glowed as they made their way down the block. Her immediate neighborhood was residential, but just a few corners away was the border to a bustling shopping district.

They walked with their arms linked, breaking apart occasionally to make enough room for passerbys. The weather was warm and indeed pleasant temperature-wise, but the air was also quite humid.

Lisbon took her arm back as they began to get sweaty. "Jane, you promised great weather."

Jane shrugged casually. "Sorry," he said. "Don't worry though, this will just make the mango lassi even more refreshing."

"Mm." Lisbon was a big fan of lassi.

The stream of passerbys dwindled and then halted completely, leaving the sidewalk to just the two of them. Still, their arms brushed against each other as they walked, and each transient touch felt like a zap. Jane felt like a teenage boy as he found himself wishing he could fast-forward the evening to the part where they were in bed together. _This is no doubt going to be distracting through dinner... Perhaps it would be best to bring it up to her now._

"Lisbon-"

Before Jane could continue, however, a bright flash swept through the sky.

"Lightning!" Lisbon exclaimed.

He was going to point out that it was probably heat lightning, but then thunder roared and the sky opened up like a dam. Lisbon gasped in horror as torrential rain came down upon them. Jane's jaw dropped open but promptly closed again in order to seal out the rain.

They were still a ways away from the restaurant, and there were unfortunately no public buildings or overhangs nearby to take shelter. Jane tugged on Lisbon's arm and gestured behind them, back towards the direction of her home. "Let's go back!"

They ran all the way back to Lisbon's. It wasn't too far of a distance—they had only made it about six minutes out before the rain started. Even still, the three-minute run back felt like an eternity.

They were absolutely drenched by the time they reached her door. The rain hadn't lessened up in the slightest, and Lisbon's slippery fingers fumbled with her keys. They both breathed a sigh of relief when they finally stepped into dry shelter. The two of them lingered at the front door to let water drip down onto the welcome mat rather than the slick tile floor.

"Jane!" They hadn't been able to speak to each other as they ran home, so Lisbon had not been able to air her grievances. "'Great weather' my ass!" Surprisingly—and to his relief—however, she was not angry but more simply annoyed.

"The forecast didn't mention any chance of rain," he replied defensively.

She scoffed. "And which forecast was that?"

"Weather.com's."

She shook her head. "No wonder. They always get it wrong. It's better to use AccuWeather."

"Well, I thought I could trust them given that they hold the title of _Weather.com._ "

Lisbon made her way down the front hallway and peered into the kitchen. "It's 7:12," she remarked. "Even if we get changed quickly and take the car, we're still not going to make it before 7:30."

Jane sighed. The restaurant was likely packed—it was doubtful that they would honor their reservation if they were late. "What would you like to do?" he asked.

"Can you call them to see if we can move our reservation later? Maybe they had cancellations." She still wanted her mango lassi.

Jane heard her request, but his mind ventured elsewhere as Lisbon continued down the hall and her full body came into his field of vision. The adrenaline from their dash home faded and his attention shifted back to what it had been on before. Even when drenched with rain, Lisbon looked beautiful. The shine of the water made her skin glow, and her dark wet hair looked like it had been tousled on purpose. To Jane, she looked like an angel arisen from the sea.

His thoughts were far from pure, however, especially as his eyes made their way below her neck. The water had made her form-fitting dress even more form-fitting, and he could see practically every curve of her body. The V-shaped neckline exposed the drops of water that ran down from the dips of her clavicles, deviating from her midline as they ran over the curves of her chest. The accentuated contour of her hips was almost... intoxicating. Overall, the water made her look even more enticing than before.

"Jane?" she looked back at him, eyebrows arched. _Hello?_

He snapped back to the conversation. "Ah- sorry- yeah, sure thing."

"I'm going to dry off and get changed," she said, tossing him a fresh towel from the hall closet. "I'll bring you some of my brothers' spare clothes to change into, okay?"

He nodded. She looked a little concerned at his silence, and her face softened somewhat. "Don't beat yourself up about the storm," she said. "It isn't a big deal."

She turned and made her way to the bedroom, but before she was out of earshot she added an offhand comment. "Besides, you can pay me back later."

 _What?_ Jane froze as his ears processed her words. What had Lisbon just said? " _Pay_ " her " _back later?_ " She obviously hadn't meant it in financial terms. Had she been alluding to sex? He hadn't expected her to be forward about it. _No, he shouldn't jump to conclusions. She could have meant anything. Doing the dishes, for example. Or letting her pick the radio station in the car. Getting a funny haircut. It could be anything..._

He felt silly for being so flustered and tried to shake it off. Then he took out his cell phone—an old brick but fortunately rather waterproof—and dialed the number of the restaurant. It was a while before the host picked up, and the loud background noise confirmed the restaurant's current high traffic volume.

"Good evening, you've reached _Daksha's_ , I'm Andrew, how may I be of assistance?" The young host spoke hurriedly, clearly in a rush.

"Hi Andrew, I'm-" Jane paused yet again. He just couldn't stop thinking about Lisbon in her tight dress and teasingly wet hair.

"Sir? Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't catch the end of your sentence."

Jane remained silent.

"Sir?"

"Oh yes, sorry. Actually, I don't need anything. Have a good evening." He hung up immediately to save Andrew the few breaths of a strained, customer-service-voice farewell.

* * *

Lisbon was still cringing to herself as she reached her bedroom. Why had she said it like that? _"Pay for it later?"_ She paused in front of a mirror to wipe off her streaky makeup and found herself blushing.

She was still a little annoyed at getting caught in the rain, but was more so disappointed at the night's detour from the original plan. It had been fun to dress up, and she had to admit she was sad that it had been so short-lived.

She smirked as she recalled the look on Jane's face after first seeing her dressed up earlier. He had looked so smitten. The very obvious effect she had on him had pleased her. It had been hard not to tease him, hard not to pin him against the wall right there and then. She had certainly wanted to, but she had already planned to wait until after dinner.

Her cheeks flushed again as her mind wandered back to thoughts of sleeping with him that night. Thoughts of what she wanted to do to him, and what she wanted _him_ to do to _her._ Her heart raced and she became more conscious of the tension that had built up in her body. She considered scrapping their dinner plans in favor of skipping right to the action. This was certainly tempting, of course, but she caught herself before going further. Jane had been so excited about dinner. It had taken him a lot of finessing to snag the reservation, and she didn't want it to go to waste if they could help it.

Heavy pitter-patters could still be heard from outside as she made her way into her roomy walk-in closet to pick out new clothes. It was safe to say that the rain wasn't stopping any time soon. With this in mind, she chose a pair of jeans and a nice blouse.

As she began to unzip the back of her dress, there was a knock at the closet door.

"Lisbon?" It was Jane, of course. She had left the door ajar, but he hadn't come inside. All she could see was his hand wrapped around the side. Even though they had already _slept together,_ it still felt like an invasion of privacy to walk in on each other undressed.

"Hey, I'm not undressed yet," she informed him.

"Yeah, about that..."

"What?"

There was a pause, and Lisbon could sense some hesitation. To her relief, he didn't back down.

"Can I help?"

Her breath caught sharply in her throat and her heart raced even more. She didn't hesitate to reply because she knew what he meant, and she knew what she wanted.

"Yes."

He pushed the door open wider and joined her in the closet. Lisbon stared as he made his way towards her without saying a word. She took in another sharp breath of anticipation when she saw how his eyes darkened. She could tell there was no way either of them was leaving that closet fully dressed.

He remained silent and held her gaze as he approached, eyes glistening. She bit her lip as he snaked an arm behind her and found the zipper of her dress, tugging at it and slowly pulling it down. His other hand stayed at his side, and she bit back the urge to pull it onto her.

The fabric gradually peeled away from her back, but the front of the dress remained adhered. Lisbon was dying to just jump on him—she knew he was being deliberately slow to tease her. She sighed as he placed a warm hand against her chest and traced her collarbone with his thumb.

Finally, he leaned in even closer and whispered in her ear, using a gravelly voice that made her chest flutter.

"Let's stay in tonight."

 _Finally._ He laughed as she pounced on him, gripping the front of his shirt into fists. Her lips found his immediately, and he welcomed them. The anticipation snapped like a rubber band, and they were free to crash into each other and get what they had both been yearning for.

Their lust, wet clothes and tangled hair evoked a scene from a movie—only they were kissing in her closet rather than in the romantic rain. Jane gradually pressed her backwards until she was up against the closet wall. He noisily knocked over a rack of sweaters in the process and apologized for this, but Lisbon didn't notice, or care.

She wrapped her arms around him as he lowered his mouth to reach her neck. It was then that he realized he still hadn't taken off her dress—he resolved this by tugging it down in one swift motion. "I've been wanting to do that all night," he teased.

She smirked. "I know."

Once it reached the floor, she stepped out of it and kicked it aside. "Your turn," she said, barely audible, and began to unbutton his shirt.

The tension that had built up between them since the first time they slept together shattered in the best possible way. It felt like a curtain had been lifted—everything felt open, and clear. There was no longer any doubt that they wanted to be _together_ together. Things had felt right because they _were_ right, and neither of them wanted anything different.

Lisbon couldn't stop smiling as she felt his rough mouth sucking on her collarbone, making it a challenge to finish undoing his buttons. "You're making this difficult," she said, breathlessly.

"Don't I always?" Jane replied in between kisses.

"Yeah." She pushed against his chest, shoving him off so that she could reach the bottom buttons. She took her time, remembering how he had done with her dress zipper. Her smile turned into a satisfied smirk as she saw how anxious he was to get back to her.

During the few moments their bodies spent apart, she became cognizant of the fact that they were still in her closet. To resolve this, she began moving towards the door, pulling him with her as she tugged away his shirt and tossed it next to her dress.

As they crossed the threshold into her bedroom, he swept her up, eliciting a surprised giggle. Her arms wrapped around his neck and their lips found each other again as he carried her the short distance to her bed. He practically flung her onto it and then jumped in on top of her. Lisbon disagreed with this, however. She broke their kiss for a moment to pull him down by the shoulders, flipping their bodies and subsequently claiming her position on top. She propped herself up on her hands and knees, looking down at him like a tiger admiring its prey. He protested, but made no real effort to resist. He liked her—wanted her—taking control.

They paused for a moment, with her poised above him. Memories of their first night together blinked momentarily in their heads, and for a second they felt threatened. But this dissipated quickly, and they were not frightened. There was no uncertainty this time—they both knew what they wanted.

She swung her torso backwards and leaned her face down to his ear, whispering to him as he had done to her earlier.

"Are you ready to pay me back?"

* * *

The second time they slept together was much more satisfying and a much better reflection of the years they had spent building up to it. It was intense and raw and wholly enjoyable, leaving them both considerably tired out the next morning. Over the years, Jane had often boasted about how well he knew Lisbon, and he certainly took the opportunity to show her _just_ how well. He had always posited that Lisbon was a good lover (she was messy), but it was still wonderful to have this confirmed by personal experience.

Pleased with their second encounter, they slept together again, and again, and again. It kicked off the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and for once they felt like a typical couple. The sexual energy seemed never-ending, and they wanted to sleep with each other every chance they got. It became their chief past-time for quite a while.

It was so memorable, in fact, that it became an obstacle. Lisbon was actually unsettled over how much it took over her mind, especially during work. The thoughts were pleasant, but very distracting—it became hard to focus on cases. It seemed like all she could think about was what they had done the previous night, what they had done that morning, and when they would do it again (which of course would be that night).

She made the mistake of letting these frustrations slip to Jane, who absolutely reveled in the effects that he had on her.

"All I can think about is _you,_ " she told him with a huff.

This elicited a 1,000-watt grin from him. "Oh Lisbon, I'm very flattered."

"It's distracting! I can't focus on anything. It's getting in the way of work."

"I see." He scratched his chin and feigned a look of deep thought, followed by an idea. "Ah! How about we refrain from it for a little bit, then? So you can re-focus?"

"No." She rejected this immediately—the idea of stopping such an enjoyable activity was unwelcome. Then, cursing her failure to disguise such eagerness, her mind scrambled to add logical explanation. "That would make it even worse," she reasoned. _So_ _much worse._

She regretted this response too, however, as she saw his pride bolstered even more. Smirking, he looked around to ensure again that they were out of view of anyone else in the office. After doing so, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, which was something she somehow still hadn't gotten accustomed to.

"Well, in that case, I guess we should ramp it up to get it out of your system."

* * *

Of course, like all phases, the honeymoon phase came to an end. The sex eventually lost the novelty of a new relationship—but it never lost any meaning. Though it became less exciting, it became more satisfying with time. It was a regular reminder that they were all each other needed, as well as a reminder of their ironclad bond—one strengthened by years of friendship evolved into something more.


End file.
